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Alastor
''' Alastor Varandel' '''Character Sheet: http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=450831%7CHere there be words. ' Hailing from a northern land where rain and cloud rule the skies, Alastor Varandel is the son of a pair of adventurers. His father, Koven Varandel, was a talented thief specializing in the raiding of dungeons, and his mother, Jetta, was a martial artist practitioner of the Monkey Style from the west. He was the eldest of three siblings; the second was his sister Rhiann, who grew to be a dangerous berzerker, and the third was Devon, who had little talent for adventurous pursuits but possessed fantastic business savvy and is well on his way towards becoming a merchant prince. He was always focused and headstrong, but often had trouble controlling his emotions. He was perfectly confident in his own abilities, sometimes to the point of being cocky, but he was undeniably the leader of the siblings and the few other children of their age group. At the age of nine, Alastor began to manifest magical powers. His touch could unleash a powerful jolt of electricity, and the winds around him seemed to wax and wane in strength with his mood. He was instantly engrossed in magic and rapidly began grasping at whatever methods he might to further develop his talents. Father was thrilled- this was power enough to become a mighty sorcerer, he was sure. Mother, on the other hand, did not trust arcane magic, and was concerned for her son's physical and mental well being. She repeatedly attempted to convince him to abandon his pursuits, but never once did he listen. He did not lie, he did not talk back, he simply said "No". As he became a teenager, his fascination mixed with adolescent petulance. He became convinced that he was destined for great things and obsessed over the arcane in all its forms. His frustration with his mother's coddling culminated when he was fourteen and he left home, determined to find a teacher. He traveled to the south, to the northern border of Midland, and discovered a mage's guild there. He was accepted almost immediately- a youth possessing such potential was a rare thing, and one who drew their power from bloodline and force of will was even rarer. He learned of his heritage as his powers grew- he was descended from mighty storm spirits, and their strength flowed through his veins. Their pride infected him as well, for though he sought any avenue available to become more powerful he looked down on those who didn't share similar raw ability. Even the magi, wizards, who taught him were the object of his scorn. After three years of tutelage in the manipulation of magical energy, Alastor left in yet another fit of pride. Those talentless fools could teach him nothing truly great. Seven more years passed. The sorcerer had begun to master his abilities in earnest as he became a genuine adventurer. His attitude netted him few allies, and even fewer friends. He came to view those who held magical power as superior to those who did not and acted on it with imperious smugness. After slaying his first dragon wyrmling, he made a terrible decision. He returned to the mage's guild where he once studied under patient old masters and challenged the archmage to a duel. In his hubris, Alastor was utterly certain of his victory. His cataclysmic defeat left him with an eternal reminder- the loss of his right eye, torn away by a shard of ice. The archmage debated letting him live- Alastor might go on to become a terrible villain if allowed to survive. His arrogance and callous disregard for life were already leading him down that path. On the other hand... Alastor was allowed to live. The archmage gave him an ultimatum- learn to control his emotions, or be hunted down and eliminated the next time he endangers others recklessly. At first, with his confidence shot, he did as he was told for the sake of self preservation. Time passed, though, and the young man reflected on where his hubris lead him. He came to understand the pain he had brought on others and that his injury and humiliation was the result of his own failings- not of power, but of wisdom. He forced himself to remain calm in situations that would drive him mad with anger. He learned patience as he learned spells. Humility came with strength. The end result was a man who managed to keep his pride in check, and discovered that that self control made him all the more skilled. He still has his fascination and thirst for magical knowledge and power, but it no longer blinds him to consequences. He has developed a faith in magic as a force of balance in the world. To use magic for great good or evil, law or chaos, is to set the world in ruin just as it can bring ruin to one man. Now, having earned the loyalty of many men, be they of like mind or simply those who owe him and respect him, he explores ancient ruins and pursues arcane secrets in the hope unlocking the secret of achieving the loftiest of ambitions... Apothesis. But for what? And what will he do when he finds it? Category:PCs